Darker Shades of Reality
by AbaratFox
Summary: Allen did not sit on Mana's grave until Cross showed up, instead he ran and returned to the life he had led before he met Mana. Colder and crueler, how will this new Allen affect the -Man world?
1. Fall from Grace

**Heya, AbaratFox here with another D. Gray-Man story! I had this idea in my head and it wouldn't go away so I had to write it~ sorry~! It was too hard to work on I am Walker! With this floating around in my mind! (But I'm almost done with the next chapter of that too) **

**So anyway…Foxie here noticed that a good many Dark!Allen stories were also Noah!Allen stories. (What, can Allen not be evil if he's not a Noah?) And to that I saw, Allen can be plenty dark on his own, thank you very much! So this starts off just after Mana dies the second time but the twist here is instead of waiting around for Cross to show up and acting depressed, Allen runs away and goes back to living the way he did before he met Mana. **

**Still don't own D. Gray-Man. D:

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**"Mana!" Allen screamed but it was too late, he had already shattered Mana. He had lost his father for the second time. He lay on the ground, panting with tears streaming down his cheeks before he remembered the creepy man with the top hat. The Millennium Earl. Allen looked around then scrambled to his feet with his clawed hand at the ready but the Earl was gone. Allen was once more alone before his Father's gravestone.

There was a tugging feeling in Allen's clawed arm before it morphed back into a deformed human arm. It was numb again, and the stiffness felt a little unnatural after the power Allen had felt only moments before. He raised his hand carefully and held his hand under his face. Allen flexed his fingers but they could only move slightly and Allen snorted before he let his hand fall.

"_I love you, Allen." _

"_I curse you, Allen!"_

"Which one is it, Mana?" Allen asked and his voice came out strained. "If you love me then…why were you so much louder when you cursed me?" You didn't curse the people you loved, Allen knew that! Or at least he thought he did. But hadn't he hurt Mana too?

Allen wiped away his tears and sniffled. Mana loved him and hated him. That was why he had slashed Allen's eye then asked to be killed. But…wasn't hatred bad? Isn't that what Mana had told Allen? "Mana, what should I do?" Allen whispered but there was no response. "What should I do?" Allen shouted at the tombstone but only the echoes of his cracked voice answered him.

Allen's face twitched as he tried to stay composed but he couldn't manage it. He had just lost his Father _again!_ He sank to his knees and covered his face before he let out a muffled sob. Mana had told him hatred was bad, it wasn't something a gentleman would do. But then why had Mana cursed Allen? Why would the Earl offer such a terrible thing if it was bad?

Because the Earl was bad. Only bad people did bad things. But that would also mean that Allen was bad too for accepting such a deal. He should have known that the dead stayed dead. He should have known better than to accept such a deal. Should have…should have… but didn't. A tiny part of Allen wondered if there was such a thing as a good person then. All people did bad things and all people did good things. So what was the truth?

What if everyone was wrong and there wasn't such a thing as good or bad? What if they were just title people gave things that didn't actually matter? The Earl must have thought that he was doing good things and that was why he did them. How many people had been killed because of the Earl's 'good'? The shaking of Allen's shoulders slowed and he tried to breath slowly to calm himself down. Good and Evil were just titles. Neither existed anywhere but in people's minds. But the human mind was a powerful and terrifying thing, if a person believed something strongly enough then it could become a truth for them.

Allen sniffled and he wiped away his tears again. Was he god or bad? Did it even matter? The only person that had ever cared about Allen was gone now and in the end he had left Allen in even more turmoil. What should he do? Why wasn't there anyone to tell him? Allen's mind was frenzied and he tried to gather his scattered and panicked thoughts. He had no one here to help him so he would have to help himself. If only he cared for himself then did he even care if he was good or evil?

His breath hitched slightly but other than that, Allen's fit was over. He lowered his arms and got back up to his feet. He stood there for a few seconds before he lifted his chin and looked defiantly up at the crescent moon. His eyes were no longer dull and empty but they were not the bright and happy things they had once been either. Instead, Allen's eyes gleamed and burned coldly. His naïve outlook on life had been shattered and in its stead was understanding. Good…evil…whether or not they existed was up for debate but now Allen knew that it didn't matter. He was lower than dirt. No one would care if he vanished or not.

So what did he have to live for?

He had himself. Allen didn't want to die and he would fight to survive. Allen turned his head from the moon and he started walking out of the graveyard without a second glance at Mana's grave. Allen would not allow himself to get close to anyone and he would not stop surviving. Even if that made him evil, Allen no longer cared.

There was still a part of Allen that did care though and he stopped at the gate. He felt a pinching feeling in his heart and he peeked over his shoulder but Mana's stone was indistinguishable from the others in the graveyard. Allen's heart tightened but he remained expressionless. If anything, his eyes only grew harder. He snorted and turned his head so he could stare out at the empty road. It was still snowing and Allen stuck is hands into his armpits to keep them from freezing. Only he would care if they did, though. There was no one else for him left in the world. And, now that he thought about it, Allen liked it better this way. Now he could live selfishly without caring about anyone but himself.

Allen bit his lower lip and then tossed his head before he ran. He ran down the street and continued from there, no destination in mind or plan as to where he should go. He just wanted to be far away from the pained feeling in his heart and with each step he took he could imagine that the pain lessened.

"_Never stop walking forward."_

Allen would move forwards and he would never again look back. He wouldn't live for anything honorable and he would never again worry about what was right or wrong. He had a goal now and that goal was his own survival. He would follow that path diligently and never stray from it. He was no longer the person he had been and he no longer cared what kind of person he would become.

So Allen ran and as he went he left his heart behind. He wouldn't need it again.

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**Well, that was short. But what do ya think? Interesting? Maybe~? **


	2. Safer Than Not

**Thanks to all my reviewers~! I love you guys! Moyashi-neechan; Spelling mistake? What spelling mistake? And no, I totally didn't go back and edit it the second you pointed it out to me! :D **

**I have school of right now because of the cold. The high today was -6F (-21C). I won't tell you the low but it made me cry. T.T  
**

**If there was any doubt in your mind, yes this is AU and no, this is not a yaoi/yuri/pairing fic. Romance is not my strong suit. **

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**Allen walked through the crowd with his head down and his hands in his pockets. He had tied a filthy rag over his head to cover his snow white hair and he had smeared the left side of his face to hide the red mark on it so he was more passable for an average street rat. His clothes were slightly tattered from all the traveling he had done and he probably smelled terrible but that only helped with his overall, 'back off' aura. Allen hadn't been paying attention to how long it had been since Mana's death but it was still cold and that was a bigger concern for Allen. Why would he think about Mana when he was in danger of getting frostbite?

It was not out of depression that Allen wore torn clothing and put ash on his face. His eyes still burned brightly under his hair as they flickered from side to side to look at the people around him, seeking out a likely target. Before Allen had met Mana, he had briefly lived as a pick pocket and now that Mana was gone, Allen had seen no reason not to return to the lifestyle. He was even better at it now; his hand had become quick from all the stupid tricks that Mana had taught him to do. Allen wasn't sure that he had ever liked being a clown but he could not deny that he had liked Mana and it might have been for him alone that Allen put up with the heavy face paint and ridiculous clothes.

But Mana was gone now and Allen was no clown. Allen was a thief and so far, the quality of his life had not changed too much. Only now he worked in an 'evil' trade instead of a 'good' one. It almost made Allen want to laugh, even with such a career change, people still looked away in disgust when they saw him on the street! They were so pompous and self righteous, looking down at him for just being a filthy orphan. Allen wondered if a single one of them would act any differently in his shoes; but they weren't and never would be.

Allen was just another speck of dirt they had to step around during their wonderfully insignificant lives.

An elderly man in nice clothes walked a little too close to Allen and they brushed against each other. The impact made Allen stumble slightly and he had to suppress a grin. "Watch it!" The old man spat in disgust. He had raised his cane as if he was going to strike Allen and his cheeks had flushed red from anger. "How dare you?" He demanded and Allen lowered his head. People around them stopped walking but did nothing to stop the old man's abuse of a child.

"Sorry, sorry, didn't mean too, Sir." Allen muttered submissively and the man curled his lips back in disgust before he whipped past Allen, completely unaware that his pockets were slightly lighter. He was clearly well off and he defiantly wasn't a good person, either. The man probably had grandchildren Allen's age yet he had no qualms about threatening to hit Allen. There were such huge differences in who you could be based on your blood alone and Allen was a nobody born of nobody.

_So he's a gambler?_ Allen mused as he felt a deck of cards shift in his pocket along with the few coins he had lifted off the man. Interesting, Allen would not have pegged him for having such a habit. After Allen had walked a safe distance, he finally allowed a grin to split his face in two. He had enough money now to buy some food, and he had only needed to steal from three people today! Allen was getting better at finding people with fatter pockets and he desperately needed the money. His appetite had gone through the roof and he always felt cold when he was hungry.

Allen weaved through the street quickly, he didn't want to be found when the man realized what had happened and he needed to find some food he could eat. His stomach already felt tight and painfully empty. Allen _needed_ to eat before it got any worse! One thing that Allen did miss about Mana was the steady stream of food. It had taken a while for Allen to reacquaint himself with life on the street and in that time he had lost a lot of weight. His ribs had even started showing through his skin before Allen had sunk to the level of digging in other people's pockets.

Hey, if it was that or starving to death, Allen's choice was clear. Get food. Get money.

Satisfied that he was a safe distance from his last robbery, Allen slipped into a bakery and he relished the strong sent of bread. Cheap, warm, and tasty. Bread was everything Allen could have wanted in life rolled into one filling package. Allen walked to the counter and ignored the looks he got from the people around him. "Four loaves." Allen said to the person behind the counter and he dropped a large pile of coins onto the counter before she could protest. Allen had money and he was too hungry for niceties.

The woman with steel-colored hair and green eyes stared at the money distrustfully for a second before she looked up at Allen. She knew exactly where his money had come, there was only one way a person like Allen could get that much, from but her greed was enough to make her want to overlook it. "It's for my family." Allen added blandly. He had provided her with an excuses to hide behind so she could take the money and ignore her morals.

"What kind?"

"Whole wheat." That was the most satisfying. The woman nodded and she took up a bag and placed four loaves inside. Allen watched carefully to make sure they were all free of mold and at least relatively fresh. People sometimes gave him the most disgusting loaves just because they could and no one would care. What, would Allen go to the police? 'Oh yes, this bakery would only let me buy rotting bread with the money I stole'. That would just go over so well.

"Is that everything?" The steel-haired woman demanded and Allen nodded. She glared at him for a second before she reached a knotted hand for the money on the counter but before she could take it, another hand swooped down from behind Allen and scooped the pile of coins off the counter.

"Hey!" Allen snarled. Someone was stealing _his_ money! He whirled around with his deformed hand raised and ready to transform into a claw but he stopped at the last second. His gaze locked with a green eye and a blue eye, far above and he felt a little jolt. That man had the same look in his eyes as Allen.

"I'll pay for it," The sandy haired man said and he smiled at the woman as his hand closed around Allen's coins. "He's just a child after all." He reached his free hand into the pocket of his plain worker's pants and he handed the woman a few bills. The woman glowered at him for a second before she handed him the bread in return. "Thanks." The sandy haired man said and he looked down at Allen. "Mind coming with me, kid?"

"Whatever." Allen said and the man handed Allen both the food and the cash before he put a hand on Allen's shoulder and steered him out of the bakery and onto the street. Allen pocketed his coins before he reached into the bag and picked out the best looking loaf. Without offering any to the stranger, Allen started tearing into it like it was the first food he had eaten in days. The sandy haired man with mismatched eyes still had a hand on his shoulder and it was clear by his grip that Allen wasn't going to be allowed to go anywhere so he might as well eat.

Allen regarded this him out of the corner of his eye as he tried to figure out what he wanted. He was dressed in brown pants, heavy boots, a cap, and a navy jacket like a chimney sweep or mail carrier. He looked to be in his late teens and Allen couldn't imagine that he had an income that he would willingly waste on a random kid. He could probably barely even feed himself! "You're not bad, kid." He finally said without looking away from the road ahead of them and Allen stiffened. What was he referring to? "But you're not good either."

"What?" Allen asked and his eyes darted around. The street they were walking down was crowded but there were a couple alleys Allen could run into if need be. Allen had stopped eating and he put his half-chewed loaf back in the bag.

"If you were really good, that old bastard wouldn't have even noticed you touching him."

Allen's eyes went wide and his heart skipped a beat. He had seen him steal? A thief could get their fingers chopped off for being caught and that though terrified Allen more than he would have thought possible. Allen tried to pull away but the hand on his shoulder tightened until it was painful and Allen hissed. "Don't worry, kid, I'm not turning you in." Allen was not consoled, however. If he knew that Allen was a thief then why had he approached him? What did he want? "Come on," he instructed and he suddenly hauled Allen into a cleaner looking alley. Allen stumbled at the unexpected directional change but he managed to save himself from face planting a pile of snow by putting his hand against a wall.

"Who are you?" Allen demanded and he glared up at the man. He still had his hand on Allen's shoulder and Allen hated it. "Let me go." There was a moment's pause while Allen glared at him before he smiled and took his hand away.

"Easy, kid." He said. "I'm Jay. Have you got a name?"

"Allen." Allen said evenly. He was still glaring defiantly at Jay but he knew that he was completely his mercy. Jay was stronger than Allen and probably faster as well. Escape was not an option, giant claw hand or no. "What do you want?"

"Cutting straight to the chase, then," Jay sounded like he approved. "You know your mind." Allen stuck out his chin and snorted. "How do you like being a thief, kid?" He asked suddenly and Allen was taken aback.

"Fine." Allen said stiffly and Jay smiled again. Why did he do that? His eyes stayed as cold as ever and Allen was sure that they were the same kind of person. So why did Jay smile? Allen didn't understand it and it was frightening. Was there something wrong with Jay, or was there something wrong with Allen? If they both had icy eyes then why did Jay smile while Allen frowned?

"You sure about that?" Jay's smile grew wider and Allen shrank back. This person was dangerous and Allen felt his skin crawl slightly. Allen wanted him to stop smiling; it was too creepy and too disturbing.

"What do you want?" Allen repeated but his voice was a little smaller now.

"I want to know if you really like being a thief, kid." Jay stepped back slightly but Allen was still a little scared. "And, I want to know if you would consider a different occupation."

"What occupation?" Allen demanded.

"Assassinations." Jay said in the same tone people usually reserved for conversations about the weather. "For hire." There was a long pause while the meaning of Jay's words sunk in before Allen's eyes bulged terror was clearly written across his face. Jay tilted his head slightly and he took a step forward and took a knee so that they were eye-to-eye. "What's the matter, kid?" He sounded almost concerned and confused. Allen wondered if Jay was really so thick that he did not know why he was scared.

"Y…You _kill_ people? For money?" Allen's voice was shrill and his knees had started shaking slightly. "And you want _me_ to…to! I won't!" He was having a hard time speaking and his mind was fraying. What if Jay killed him for refusing? What if Jay turned him over to the police?

"Is that so?" Jay had dropped his smile and he regarded Allen dispassionately. "Look kid, you don't have much of a choice. You either got to join someone or die. We can pay you and we can keep you safe."

"You want me to-!"

"So?" Jay asked and he lowered his cap over his mismatched eyes. "You just going to keep stealing, kid? That's no life. Join us; we can give you everything you could want." Jay's voice was a velvety purr now and it was hard not to believe him. Especially because some very dark part of Allen agreed with him.

"I want to not kill people." Allen retorted and he forced back his panic. He could not let Jay see how frightened he was. Fear was a sign of weakness and Allen did not want to give Jay any sort of advantage over him. But Jay was smirking now and he put a hand over his mouth to hold in a snicker.

"You're a real classy punk, you know that?" Jay said after he took a few seconds to compose himself. "I think we could get along well." Allen curled his lips in disgust and his eyes gleamed coldly. He didn't get along with anyone, least of all people like Jay. "You say you don't want to now but, if you change your mind," Jay stood up and Allen watched him carefully to be sure he would not try to knife him. Instead, Jay just took a pen out from behind his ear and he pulled a slip of paper out of his pocket. "I'll be at this location all night, just say you want Jay at the door." Jay jotted something down before he handed Allen the paper.

"What? No!" Allen protested but Jay had already started to leave. For some reason, this made Allen furious and he kicked an empty milk bottle so it shattered. "You! I can't-!"

"Can't you read?" Jay asked, turning his head back slightly to blink at Allen as if he didn't know that Allen wanted to strangle him. "I guess it wouldn't be surprising." Allen bristled and he balled his fists. Was Jay _trying _to insult him?

"Of course I can!"

"Then, there's no problem." Jay shrugged and, a second later he vanished onto the street, leaving Allen alone in the alleyway. Allen stared after him for a few seconds as his anger faded before he looked down at the folded piece of paper. The part of him that still believed in what was 'good' screamed at him to throw it away, to toss it then run and never look back. Allen was no killer, that wasn't something he could do.

But he didn't throw Jay's note away, instead he just pocketed it without looking at what was written. He wasn't sure why he did it. After all, he hated the idea of killing another person but he also had a lot to think about and he knew that once he threw out the note there would be no turning back. He wasn't willing to do that, Allen wasn't sure yet what his choice would be. He had already dropped the ideas of what was good or evil but it went against what it meant to be human to kill people for a profit.

Allen could forsake being a good person but was he okay with forsaking what it meant to be human?

The bread was warm enough so that a little bit of steam came out of the top of the bag and Allen fished out his half-eaten loaf. He started tearing into it as he walked back to the street and into, seemingly, another world. In the alley, he and Jay had been alone and all other sounds were muted but now he was surrounded by people and everything was so very loud. What if Allen did take Jay up on his offer…Would he someday walk down a street thinking about which one of them he was going to kill? Was that any different than walking down a street thinking about who he was going to steal from? _Yes, don't be stupid,_ Allen chided himself. Why would he even consider such a thing?

Well, for starters, Jay was right. Allen was on his own. What if he got too sick to steal? In that kind of scenario Allen would probably die. Whether from sickness or starvation, he would die like a dog; cold, alone, and pathetic and no one would even notice. Unless, of course, he died somewhere inconvenient for them. If Allen was part of an organization then he would be safe if he got sick and he would never have to starve.

…But then he would also have to kill people. And that was the nature of Allen's choice. Kill others and survive or potentially kill himself. When Allen thought of it like that then his choice was obvious, he had made a promise to himself to survive no matter what. His chance of being horribly hurt while living on the street were frighteningly high and living under the protection of an organization would help lower that chance quite a bit. Huh, Allen had already finished the rest of the loaf.

_I can't do that! Killing people is wrong! _Why? Who said it was wrong? Allen had already turned his back on what was wrong and right. If he needed to survive then he would do what he had to. Besides, he had killed Mana for the sake of his own survival and he _loved_ Mana. If he could kill his own Father then what should stop him from killing a random stranger?

In the middle of the sidewalk, Allen stopped walking he made a small whimpering noise in the back of his throat. This was the first time he had thought of Mana since that night and Allen was shocked by how casually he had thought about him. Allen glanced down at his mutilated arm and he remembered the power he had felt from it while crushing Mana. Allen hadn't been able to reactivate it since then and he wondered if he needed to be near the Earl for it to work.

"Move it!" An angry sounding man with a cart whined as he passed and Allen was jerked out of his stupor. He started walking and he fished out a second loaf to start eating. Allen could already think so easily of killing Mana, almost as though his Father no longer mattered to him. Mana did matter! Allen needed to be sure that he never forgot that. Mana was the one person that Allen would always love. Stupid clown or not, Mana had taught him the most important lesson in the world.

There is no such thing as good and evil.

Whatever the human condition was, Allen was no longer applicable and he didn't really want to be. Humans weren't special, they were disgusting and bloodstained and Allen didn't care if he was or was not one of them. Fuck the human condition. Allen was Allen, end of statement. He would go to see Jay and find out more about being an assassin. Showing up was not a guarantee that Allen was in, merely proof that he was interested and he was interested. Very interested. Jay would have an excellent student for now, whatever Allen was going to do later would depend mostly on what he would find out this night.

Now all he had to do was eat bread and kill time.

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**I told you this was a dark Allen fic! And yes, there will be OCs in this story but none of them will be that major. **

**This chapter was originally going to include Allen meeting Jay again but that would have just been way too long~ So you'll have to wait for more~  
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	3. A Cover

**I'm amazed with how popular this has become~ I wasn't anticipating such good reception and I must say, I like it quiet a bit. **

**So, yeah. This is an assassin!Allen fic if you could not already tell. It's not a route I've taken before and I'm hopeful that you will enjoy reading it as much as I enjoy writing it~!

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**Who, in their right mind, would tell a child to go to the bar known as Paul's Place? Allen was standing in front of it, trying not to recoil in disgust. The place was obviously part whorehouse, part gambling den, and Allen also knew that it was the headquarters of whatever Jay was doing. Despite this, there was a bouncer at the door and the place was surprisingly high class. It had been painted bright, tacky colors and there was a roar of laughter and talking coming from within. It was the kind of place where only the richest of society's slime would gather. A title which Allen was about to lay claim to.

Allen was standing across the street from the building named on Jay's note, watching people drift in. So far no one had come back out and Allen was beginning to wonder about the capacity of the place. Night had only fallen a few hours ago, yet Allen had already seen at least fifty people go inside! Sure, Paul's Place was three stories high but this way getting ridiculous. The town couldn't have had more than two hundred residents!

The streetlight flickered and Allen noticed how well he could see his breath. There were goose bumps on his arms too; maybe he should go in already before he froze to death. Allen rubbed his left arm and wondered if there was some way to alleviate the red arm's paralysis before he reluctantly crossed the street. He still looked the part of a filthy street rat. It usually attracted less attention when no one could see his hair color or the mark on his face but in this situation, he stuck out like a sore thumb.

Allen had to step carefully to avoid large patches of ice and he even had to stick his arms out to keep his balance at one point. It probably wouldn't be very good to show up at the meeting with a concussion. When Allen made it to the other side after many carefully placed steps, he inspected the building more carefully. The paint looked new and from what little of the inside he could see from the window it was lavishly decorated. The bottom floor was filled with card tables and roulette wheels, there was also a very crowded bar in the back. Allen supposed that the second floor was probably the one for pleasure and the top one was the Headquarters. Allen craned his neck but he couldn't see anything from the third floor windows. Well he would find out soon enough. With a shrug, Allen turned and put a foot on the steps.

"Oi!" The bouncer said quickly and he stepped in front of the door. Allen had frowned at him but he stopped and took a step back. The man was massive and he had biceps the size of cantaloupes. He could crush Allen effortlessly. "You can't come in here; this is no place for a kid." The bouncer said, almost kindly but Allen just gave him a cold stare.

"I'm here to see Jay." Allen said without emotion. The bouncer blinked and he seemed to deflate slightly.

"Sorry, kid." He muttered and he stepped aside. Without sparing the man another glance, Allen walked past him, through the ornate doors, and into Paul's Place. The heat and stench of nefarious deeds hit him so hard that his eyes watered. How completely disgusting, why the hell would Jay think it was a good idea to invite a kid here? Jay was barely an adult himself!

Suppressing the urge to turn around and leave or vomit, Allen stepped all the way inside and let the door shut behind him. His skin was smarting now in the sudden warmth and he rubbed his left arm again. It was so loud here and everyone seemed to be having a ridiculous amount of questionable fun. Allen wondered if a single one of them was still sober.

Paul's Place seemed to have people from all over England, all over the World, mingling and gambling and drinking. There were so many people that it made it almost impossible for Allen to pick anyone out, not to mention the fact that his head was just barely above everyone's waist. After a few more seconds by the door, Allen hissed in agitation before he pushed his way through the people in hope that he might run into Jay.

The going was slow, as Allen often had to bodily shove drunks out of the way and at one point a woman had kissed him then told him to have a drink before dumping vodka on his face. That was a lovely experience. Allen was fairly sure that she had washed off the soot over his curse mark and now he smelled like hard liquor. Defiantly a lovely experience.

Eventually, Allen managed to push his way to the bar and he flopped over onto the counter, panting. What the hell was wrong with everyone? It was broiling in here and everything stank! Allen pressed his cheek against the cool of the bar to try to clear his head. The stench of vodka on his shirt was making him lightheaded and Allen grit his teeth. He was getting tipsy from the _smell_ of alcohol! How pathetic!

"Hah!" A familiar voice rose above the den and immediately Allen was alert and looking around. "You think that's bad? I have a way crazier ex!" Allen wrinkled his brow. Jay was talking about his ex? How old was he, anyway? But at least Allen had a location now, Jay's voice had come from a corner roulette table and, although Allen could not see him, he was sure that Jay was there. He gave himself a few more seconds to catch his breath before he pushed his way back into the crowd and towards Jay.

The teen was sitting with his back in the corner, with two boys his age on either side of him. They were talking animatedly and when Allen found them Jay finished making a sex joke that made Allen turn scarlet. "Jay!" Allen had to shout over the crowd and all three boys looked up. Jay's friends both had lively, warm eyes; a stark contrast to Jay's icy ones. Allen blinked and he very quickly figured that they were not assassins, merely people Jay kept around so he could fit in with the crowd.

"Hey, Allen." Jay smirked. "Knew you'd come around." He sounded so superior that Allen snorted and tossed his head. What would Jay have done if he hadn't shown up? Probably the same thing. People like Jay would never admit to being wrong.

"Yeah, I'm here." He spat back but Jay's grin just widened.

"Well, sit down!" Jay encouraged and he patted the space between him and a black-haired boy with pale blue eyes. "Between me and Clive."

"Clive and I," Clive corrected and Allen arched and eyebrow. Was that really important? "It's Clive and I, Jay."

"Aw, shut it, Clive." The other boy- a kid with brown eyes, mossy hair, and glasses- snickered. Allen looked between the two before his eyes flickered back to Jay. Jay just shrugged and gestured at the seat on the red bench once more. What was he playing at? Allen was here, wasn't he? Why did Jay want him to hang around a couple people while Jay told dirty jokes? Allen was very rapidly coming to the conclusion that Jay had no idea how to act around kids.

With a snort, Allen climbed in around Clive and settled next to Jay. The bench was surprisingly comfortable and Allen sat back so he could lean on the backrest. Allen noticed that, even with his 'friends', Jay was still sitting in a position that would allow him to fight or run at a moment's notice. He shot the older boy a questioning look but Jay just ignored him. "What's up with the kid, Jay?" The mossy haired boy asked and Jay laughed.

"He's just someone I picked up, Tom." Jay said and he picked up his mug of beer and took a huge sip. Allen looked down at his lap while two sets of eyes bored into him like he was some kind of foreign animal. There was a long lull in the conversation while Jay was seemingly oblivious to Allen's discomfort and he continued chugging his beer. Idly, Allen started listening to wisps of conversation from the people around them while her thumb wrestled with himself. "Thought he could work around here for a bit." Jay said after he set down his heavy mug.

"Want a drink, kid?" The mossy teen said and he leaned over the wheel to grin at Allen. Unintentionally, Allen sat further back and fiddled his thumbs more furiously. He could feel Jay's eyes bore into him and he could almost feel the interested and curious expression on his face. Jay wanted to know how Allen would handle a situation that he was uncomfortable with, that was why he was making him endure this. Either that or Jay just found the whole ordeal funny as hell.

"Tom!" Clive protested. "He's a kid! He can't drink!" Allen wondered if they were going to talk about him like he wasn't here the whole time or if he should just continue becoming better aquatinted with his finger nails. Well, if he didn't want to be known as 'kid' he should probably speak up.

"Allen," Allen said without looking up. He was a kid, but there were millions of kids. There were nowhere near as many Allens and so Allen would much rather be called Allen, instead of kid.

"Allen might not want anything but I sure as hell do." Jay leaned across the table to leer at Tom. "Mind getting us another round?"

"Hey! It's his turn!" Tom protested and he pointed franticly at Clive, who just looked bored. Allen shot him a glance under the rag over his head. Why was he so loud? Allen was fairly certain he wasn't even all that drunk.

"No, it's not. You just lost this round. You have to purchase." Tom puffed out his cheeks and Clive gave him a motherly-stare. "Go buy another round." Clive instructed. Allen shot Jay another questioning look but Jay was too busy pretending to laugh to actually pay attention to him. Great, just fantastic. Allen was now stuck watching some sort of bizarre drinking game while he _should_ have been talking to Jay about his offer.

"Cheap bastards." Tom grumbled under his breath and he stalked off in the direction of the bar. Allen supposed this was normal behavior so he just brought up his knees so that he could wrap his arms around them and rest his chin against them. He was going to wait for Jay to finish with his friends but he wasn't going to be happy about it. And he would make sure that Jay knew it, too. Then he felt a shift in weight next to him and Allen looked over to see Clive sliding out of his seat.

"Bathroom," Clive said sheepishly before he too disappeared into the crowd. Allen blinked after him before he puffed out his cheeks and looked back to Jay. Unsurprisingly, he had dropped his happy smile and was regarding Allen with undisguised interest.

"Knew you'd come." Jay smirked as he echoed what he had said on Allen's arrival. "Not nearly so high and mighty as you thought you were, huh kid?" Allen buried his face in his knees and shot Jay an irritable glare but he remained silent. If he lashed out, Jay would only taunt him more. "Not what you expected?" Jay gestured to the room around them in all it's questionable glory.

"Not exactly." Allen admitted but his voice was muffled. Presumably because he had yet to stop talking into his knees. "What is this place?"

"The Headquarters, obviously." Jay said pleasantly and he waved at a couple young women who giggled the whispered to each other. "If we were to pick the shadiest spot in town, everyone would figure out pretty quick that we were up to no good."

"Are you saying this _isn't _shady?" Allen lifted an eyebrow. This place was disgusting! There was nothing going on in here that Allen liked in the slightest.

"It's loud and not entirely legal, true. But if anything it just looks like a gambling den, yeah?"

"A brothel too," Allen added. Where was Jay going with this? He stared hard at Jay's face but the older teen gave nothing away.

"My point exactly. But the one thing it does _not_ look is exactly what it is." Jay said cryptically. "Gambling and whoring are frowned upon but it's not too hard to get people to look the other way. We use this as a cover." That actually made sense. If you want to hide a tree, put it in a forest. So by being upfront about lesser crimes, they had an easier time hiding the major ones. This also gave them a greater range of movement than if they were entirely closed off in secrecy.

"Why not use a cover that isn't so…loud?" Allen asked. "Police must come here sometimes, what if they noticed something out of the ordinary?"

"For starters, they don't know what the ordinary is for us and if they _do _see something they don't like, a little 'tip' will clear the whole thing up." Jay rested his chin in one of his palms and stared out at the crowd. As much as he hated to admit it, Allen was fascinated by that he was saying. He wanted to know more, he wanted to know everything that Jay could tell him. "And we don't exactly have all clean-cut clients, either. If we were to pick a spot in a quiet place, don't you think people would get suspicions if low brow slime was constantly coming in? No, this way or clients can have a cover too." Another good point and Allen was beginning to agree with the logic. To was remarkable how much his attitude had changed from earlier and Allen wondered what that meant he was becoming. Then he realized that he didn't care.

Was that why Jay smiled, then? If he let the world see that he was cold and uncaring then it would become harder for him to interact with it. So he did himself behind a smile and 'friends'. Tom and Clive must have truly meant nothing to him if he could so easily wear a smile that did not reach his eyes around them.

"So," Jay said and he leaned back in his seat. It was the closest thing to relaxing that Allen had seen from him. "Interested? This would be your last chance to leave without us having to kill you first." That was dark, but Allen was positive that the benefits would outweigh the risks. With that in mind, he returned Jay's cold smile and lifted his head up so they were closer to being eye to eye.

"I have no intentions of leaving, Jay."

"Good."

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**Yes, the Black Order will come into play later but I actually want to go through Allen's life. There are some fics that do a time skip so you go from a cheery character to a dark character over the space of a chapter and I really want to write about Allen's personality deteriorating. **

**Please review, it's my bread and butter~  
**


	4. Desire for Power

**Hey people~! Foxie still doesn't own D. Gray-Man. D:**

**And when I said I would write about Allen growing up, I didn't mean I'd give you a play-by-play of his life. I'm just going to give you the important things~

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**Allen was on his knees, scrubbing the floor of Paul's Place after yet another long night of partying. He had been here for five months now, and all he ever did was wake up in the morning, clean up after whatever had happened at night, practicing cards with Maggie, then go to sleep and try to ignore the sounds of people on the bottom floor. Allen understood why he had to do this but he hated it more and more every day. The initial awe of being in the presence of assassins had died off within the first few days and now all he was left with was a mind numbing boredom.

As it turned out, not many people that worked at Paul's Place were actually involved in the 'work', as it was casually referred to, and Paul wasn't even a real person. Most of the assassins were like Jay, they had a day job and they'd only check in every so often to get more work. The Bartender, Mr. Roper, two whores, Maggie and Vanessa, and the bouncer, Zach, were the only people that actually knew the true purpose of the bar and out of them only Maggie was an assassin.

For some reason, Maggie really liked Allen and she wasted no time in making him her apprentice of sorts. She had found him some dye for his hair and taken a look at his crippled his hand. Allen had yet to use the dye but he had taken her advice as to how to take care of his arm. According to her, there were signs of nerve damage but the only reason he couldn't use it was because it was out of practice. So she was making him work it even more than he used his right hand to hone his skills. At first, he had been surprised that the whore had known so much but then he found out she was an assassin as well and she knew the human body like the back of her hand. Not only that, but she had smacked him when he asked if she was a whore. According to Maggie, she was the Madam, not a whore. According to Allen, a whore was a whore and that was exactly what Maggie was. However, he held his tongue.

As nice as she was to him, Allen knew it was only because she was merely training Jay's new recruit, not because she liked the boy named Allen. She wasn't the kind of person to get attached to anyone and Allen wasn't either. Doubtless she knew this but, for some reason, the more he pushed her away the more amusement she got from bothering him. Tactfully, she avoided using his name; instead calling him 'Kitty' which he was fairly certain was a girl's name. Jay had explained to him that no one went by their real names and so everyone had nicknames for everyone else. Jay had then promptly elbowed Allen's head when Allen attempted to dub him 'Jackass'.

"Am I done yet?" Allen whined and Mr. Roper frowned at him from the other side of the bar. He wasn't unfair but, as Allen was currently his only free labor, he wanted it done right. Meaning he would make Allen stay as long as he needed to so that everything would be clean.

"Yes, it's good." Mr. Roper finally said and Allen sighed in relief. He tossed the rag into the bucket of water and he wiped his forehead before he got to his feet and took the bucket out to dump it. Allen had been given a new wardrobe as well, nothing flashy or new but they were warm and that was really all he cared about. Allen lugged the heavy bucket down the stars and he walked into an alley way before he dumped out the water. It would be bad if there was ice in front of the bar, it would be bad if one of their guests were to slip and kill themselves on the way in.

Allen walked in with a remarkably light bucket swinging in one hand and he put it away in the supply closet behind the roulette wheels. Allen looked around the room that he had spent several hours cleaning, and would spend several hours cleaning tomorrow before he yawned and shrugged. He was hungry; it was time to go back up to the top floor and wait for Maggie to show up.

Allen had an idea when he had first come that the third floor would be filled with maps and a whole bunch of scary assassin type things. Instead, it was just an empty and basically unfurnished room. There were scattered beds here and there with chairs placed at random and a cabinet filled with a variety of medical supplies. That was a lesson both Jay and Maggie had drilled into his head. Never leave _any_ incriminating evidence behind. All missions would come straight from the clients to the assassin and they would be very careful not to let the client see their face. No documents or records were ever taken and all cash was dealt under the table. If a client didn't want to pay, then there were many ways to ruin them and clients were made aware of this before the job was taken.

'_We're the last resort'_ Maggie had told Allen. _'Once people come to us they've gone past the point of no return and our job is to do what they want. We are merely tools, Kitty. If they didn't come to us they would find someone else.' _

Allen didn't matter. He was just one of many that existed to kill on other people's commands. Nothing he did mattered because he was only an instrument of destruction. Or he would be, once he was ready for it. But the one thing that had really struck home to Allen was this, he was just a utensil and although he would be the one that did the killing, it was the client that would have blood on their hands. Unless Allen got caught; in which case everything would be pinned on him and no one would be there to help him. If he failed then he would be cast aside. Because Allen did not matter. His actions, if not performed by him, would be performed by someone else.

The door slid open and Allen stepped onto the attic floor before he slid it shut behind him. There were several windows through which light filtered but Allen just made straight for the bed that he had been told to sleep in. Eventually, he would find a new place to live once he got a day job and set up a fake life. Just like everyone else around him had done. Until then, he would live on the third floor of Paul's Place and sleep in an empty cot while he worked for the bartender.

Allen had stashed what few valuables he had under his bed and he bent down and scooped all of them out. He had several changes of clothes that he needed to clean, a jar of toxic looking sludge that would supposedly dye his hair brown, and the deck of cards he had lifted off the old man. Not much but it was better than what he had before. Which had been nothing.

Allen scooped up his clothes and took them to a water basin that was in the corner of the room and he dropped them into the cold water. He would scrub them out later whenever Maggie got him the bar of soap she had promised. Until then, a good soaking and rubbing would have to do.

Now, time to get back to practicing. Maggie had told Allen that he would need to be basically ambidextrous before she would even mention any other form of training and Jay had been basically gone from Paul's Place since the first night. So, having nothing better to do, he had started playing cards. He worked on flipping cards and flicking them around in a manner that didn't seem very practical but it slowly helped improve his movement. He didn't want to give all the credit to Maggie who just rubbed it and make Allen stretch it in weird and painful ways.

Out of curiosity, Allen had started watching people play the games downstairs and he had reached the conclusion that any game with cards was merely a contest to see who could be the better cheater and get away with it. Lies had to work to your advantage and they needed to be believable. Allen saw the games they played on the bottom floor as a miniaturized and simplified form of the game of life itself and he had become determined to master it. If he managed to gain a perfect poker face then who knew what kind of practical application he could find for it?

Allen sat with his legs crossed on his bed and he set out the cards so they were all face up. Then, using his 'bad' hand only, he gathered them up in one swipe and started to shuffle them, careful to arrange the deck in such a way that would give him an advantage over his imaginary opponents. His hand moved deftly and, although it still was sluggish, Allen could feel it more acutely; as if the numbness had retreated. The progress was oddly satisfying in a way Allen couldn't explain but it almost felt as though he had more control over himself.

It must have seemed childish and stupid but it was something Allen didn't want to lose. He hated the feeling now that he knew what it was like to live without it and Allen had vowed to never let himself feel so powerless ever again. And in following with that line of thought, he had been trying to bring back the massive claw he had used to kill Mana but thus far had been unsuccessful. It was only the fact that there was now a glowing green cross in the back of his hand that proved that it had not been some sort of twisted dream. Well that, and the freakish scar and white hair he now had.

But why wouldn't that claw come back?

Allen knew nothing about what it was or why he had it but he did know that it was somehow connected to the man called 'Earl'. Other than that, Allen was left to try to discover some kind of logical explanation. People's arms didn't usually become massive claws that could destroy undead machines. That sort of thing just didn't happen. So Allen had to assume that there was something more going on. Something dark and powerful that he didn't want to be involved with. There was something going on in the background of the seemingly normal reality and Allen did not want to get involved. He would rather live knowing what he knew than trying to play detective to some kind of huge supernatural plot. So he had kept quiet about the fact that his arm could transform. He didn't trust anyone here and with good reason.

With a dissatisfied frown, Allen started trying to practice card tricks. He flicked the cards back and forth between his fingers, going faster and faster until his left hand could barely keep up. But he needed it to be faster, to be flawless. Anything less than perfection was unacceptable. So it would be perfection that Allen sought out and he would work until he had complete mastery. Cards, assassinations, Allen would not fail. He would not allow himself such a comfort for failure. He didn't know how many chances he would get to recover afterwards.

From now on, failure would mean death.

Allen flicked the cards once more only this time he couldn't make the movement quickly enough and he deck spilled out of his hands and onto his bed and the floor. Shit. Allen stared down at the scattered cards in frustration before he heaved a sigh and slipped off his bed to pick them up. It always ended this way. The second he started to push himself everything would crumble around him. Allen knew that he was already capable of far more than he had once been but it wasn't any less infuriating when he fucked things up. He needed perfection, damn it!

The door slid open and Allen almost dropped his gathered deck in surprise. Maggie was already here? She usually went out to do shopping in the mornings and would only return much later with his dinner. Well, if she was early then Allen wasn't going to complain. He just hoped this meant he would get to eat earlier.

But when he looked up from behind it was not the Madam's heart shaped face or curly brown hair that he saw. Instead, there was a taller person in the doorway with sandy hair and mismatched eyes.

"Hello Jay." Allen greeted while biting back his disappointment. The teenage assassin just smirked at him as if there was something incredibly amusing about finding Allen picking up cards and Allen felt his cheeks getting hot. Jay had such a superior air that it was hard not to feel nervous around him. In fact, the only person Allen had seen act truly comfortably around Jay had been Maggie. Even his 'friends' seemed to think that there was something off about him, even if they could not place it. Probably came with the territory when you hung around with someone who could snap you neck and not think twice.

"What do you want?" Allen demanded as he clambered back onto his bed, deck in hand.

"I have a job tonight." Jay said easily and Allen blinked at him dispassionately before he started picking up the cards on his bed.

"So?" Allen asked without looking up. Jay had already been on several missions since he had arrived and it was nothing big. So why would Jay show up early just to tell him? Must have been some stupid idea that Jay had in his head, probably just to tease Allen. That seemed like the kind of thing Jay would find hilarious.

"You're coming with me."

Whoa, what?

Allen almost dropped the cards again and he looked sharply at Jay who was still standing in the doorway wearing his usual cold smirk. Going with him? Had Allen heard correctly? What...why? Why would Allen go with him on a mission? Jay seemed to be unwilling to give any more information so Allen had to untangle his tongue from the roof of his mouth before he finally said, "What?" His thoughts were zooming around his head and he couldn't grasp any of them for long enough to know how he felt. Had he even heard correctly? He must not have, Jay made a game out of telling him that if he didn't show some promise soon, he would ditch Allen on the street right back where he had found him.

So Jay would never offer to take Allen with him on a job. Jay didn't think he could handle it.

"You're coming with me, kid. On the job. To watch." Allen closed his eyes while that set in. He had been right. So now, he was going to watch an assassination? His eyes opened and Allen hardened his gaze once more but Jay's smirk widened. "If you're serious about this then it's time we got started. I found you so I get the honor of carting your useless arse around until you're good for something." Oh dear Jay, such a way with words.

"Why tonight?"

"Why not? You're ready. Maggie thinks you're arm is fine and you won't actually be in any danger as I will be the one doing the killing. It's time you learned how it's done." Jay shrugged as if he couldn't care less about what would happen to Allen. "Be ready at nine and don't eat much. I don't want you getting sick or anything." Jay stepped back through the doorway and leered in at Allen. He was taking in every bit of Allen's reaction to figure out what he was thinking but Allen wasn't going to just let him read him like an open book. Besides, Allen was feeling a strange mixture of excitement and nausea in the pit of his stomach and he was sure that an expression that would match that feeling would bear a striking resemblance to a sick goat.

Allen's face remained completely neutral and he nodded. "I'll be ready." He said calmly and Jay gave him a look that vaguely resembled approval. Then he was gone and the door slid shut behind him.

Alone again, as suddenly as he had gained company, Allen was left to his own thoughts. Slowly, as he calmed down, he began to realize that the strongest emotion he felt was eagerness. He was taking the first real step towards being an assassin because his hard work had reached a level that they were satisfied with. But he didn't, really and truly did not, care about gaining their approval. What he was happy-no, that wasn't the right word for the emotion he felt now. What he was pleased about was the fact that he was closer to becoming stronger.

So he would have to watch Jay kill someone, so what? Dog eat dog and Allen wasn't about to suddenly giving a damn about a person that clearly had enemies. "I'll be ready, Jackass." Allen told the door, even though Jay was already long gone.

With a satisfied smirk, Allen turned back to the cards in his hand and he went back to practicing tricks with them. It was a long time until nine and Allen would use that timeframe to patiently train and wait for Jay to return.

This was defiantly going to be a night that Allen would never forget.

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**OMG ATTACK OF THE EVIL CLIFFIE! D:**


	5. Blood and Ribbons

**Long chapter~? I just started writing and didn't stop. Before I knew it, I had nine pages done. Foxie here hopes you likes it~! :D

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**Allen was pacing impatiently, and every so often he would glare at the clock to see how much longer it would be. Unfortunately, it had been 8:53 for seemingly the past two hours and he was getting jittery. How punctual would Jay be? What if this whole thing was just some kind of twisted joke? It certainly seemed like the kind of thing he would find funny. But Maggie had confirmed what he had said earlier and Allen doubted that she would lie to him. Tease him, yes. Lie to him, probably not.

Almost immediately after Jay had left, Allen had set about with dying his hair so he wouldn't stick out like a sore thumb. His hair was now brown, several shades darker than the original chestnut shade. Although his eyebrows and lashes were still the more recent snowy white shade. There was no way he was letting that sludge anywhere near his eyes. Maggie had mentioned something about _permanent _damage if he accidentally got any in there. And he wasn't going to pluck them all out, either. So he would just have to deal with mismatched hair colors.

He was wearing dark colored clothing, as well. The kind of clothes that would blend in seamlessly with the shadows but also would not look out of place in a crowd of people from almost any class. Allen had a navy colored hat as well; it sat low over his eyes, hiding both his scar and pale lashes. He would not go out of his way to disguise himself, as that would make him stick out even more. He would look like a nobody and anyone who passed him on the street wouldn't even give him a second glance. And hopefully, no one would remember ever having seen him.

There was no way sixty seconds could take this long. Someone must have tampered with the clock because the closer it got to nine, the slower it went. What if Jay came late? "Hurry up." Allen told the clock, which ticked defiantly back. Allen let out an agitated huff before he went to the window and slumped against the ledge. He put a hand to his cheek and watched people brazenly, shamelessly, walking into Paul's Place. Night had fallen quiet some time ago, it being winter and all, and with it came the drones. Allen pressed his forehead against the cool glass and let his breath fog his view.

When Jay's target was dead…what would happen? Were they going to destroy someone's family while bringing about the revenge of another's? What if someone from the family of the dead man hired Jay to kill his current employer? Did Allen even have a right to think this way? He was only a tool, after all. At this point, Allen doubted he would feel anything even if it was entirely fault, so why was he even thinking about it?

Morbid curiosity.

That was why. Allen wanted to know what kind of effect the death of this one person would have on the people around them. Allen had all but forgotten what it was like to be close to someone and the part of his mind that craved human contact wanted to see relationships being destroyed. How interesting it was that the most human piece of him was also the cruelest. Allen wondered if that impulse would fade with time. His goal was self preservation; to harbor such dark impulses might eventually lead to his downfall.

The town church, which was rather ironically placed across the street, suddenly started ringing its bells to mark the start of a new hour. Finally! Allen unstuck his forehead from the window and looked down at the street more intently, watching for the outline of Jay to pass under the streetlight. Was Jay going to be late, then? Where in the hell was he?

"Hey kid." Jay said at the end of the last ring and Allen whirled around. Jay was standing against the medical supply cabinet, casually loading a pistol. When had he come in? Allen couldn't have been looking away for more than five minutes! Jay looked at him and gave him a smirk. "Like the hair. Very…fashionable."

"Tch," Allen snorted. Jay was dressed similarly to him. That was a good sign; it meant Allen had made the right choice and so Jay wouldn't bitch at him about it.

"Ready to go?"

"Yeah." Allen nodded and Jay tossed him something. Allen caught it with his left hand before he looked at it and realized that he was holding a pistol identical to the one in Jay's hand. It took him a second to fully grasp what it was and he immediately recoiled in shock. "Shit!" Allen yelped and he quickly pointed it away from his body.

"It ain't loaded, kid." Jay laughed and Allen blushed furiously. That had been exactly the kind of reaction that Jay had wanted. But how could he have not reacted like that? And who throws a pistol, anyway? Allen knew that they could go off at random and that was a crazy thing to do, even if the gun was unloaded.

"I thought you said that you would be the one doing the killing!" Allen snarled. He wasn't sure what to do with the gun so he held it with both hands and glared.

"Do you really want to walk into the lair of out victim completely undefended?" That actually made a surprising amount of sense although Allen wasn't just about to go and admit that Jay might be right. "I'll teach you how to load and fire on the way there." Jay tucked his gun inside his coat and he detached himself from the cabinet. "Come on."

XXX

"Take a deep breath and keep your hands steady." Jay instructed and Allen raised the pistol and took aim at the tree Jay had indicated. "I said _steady_."

"This is steady!"

"You're way off target kid, lock your elbows." Allen straightened his arms and clenched his hands more tightly around the gun. "Loosen you're grip a bit." Jay said and Allen undid his last action.

Jay had taken Allen just outside of town and into a small forest where he had talked Allen through loading a gun then lit a candle to inspect the work. Allen had been told to load it over and over again in the dark without any more instruction on Jay's part until the teen was satisfied with his progress. Allen had complained about wasting time until Jay had told him that he had deliberately allowed time for basic training. Jay said that it would be incredibly stupid to take Allen anywhere without at least giving him some training. Now, he was making Allen practice his aim but thus far, Allen hadn't even been allowed to pull the trigger.

Allen straightened his back and let out his breath while he carefully looked down the barrel of the gun to make sure it was perfectly aligned. His eyes flickered to Jay, who was standing just to his right and he felt a surge of frustration. Would it _kill_ Jay to tell him if he was doing it correctly? Allen grit his teeth and looked back at his target. Were his shoulders straight enough? He rolled them back experimentally but he couldn't tell. He had never fired a gun before; if there was a kick back would he dislocate his arm?

"Fire," Jay said suddenly.

Without giving himself time to slip out of his current position, Allen squeezed the trigger and let a bullet fly. The kick back wasn't as back as he thought it would have been but Allen still drew back his hand and held the gun to the right of his face. The bullet had landed on the tree, although it was several inches off from where Allen had wanted it to land. Allen didn't know if that was good or bad, he had been off target but it was also the first time he had ever fired a gun. Unsure, Allen blew out the smoke from the top of the barrel before he turned to look at Jay.

The teen's face was still unreadable but Allen was sure he didn't see disappointment. There was no approval either, though, so Allen took that to mean he had once again done exactly as Jay had expected. He needed to stop doing that; it was getting to be incredibly annoying. Either Allen was too predictable or Jay had too much experience with reading people. It was most likely the later. Jay didn't even seem interested in Allen anymore; instead he was just going through his coat.

Eventually, Jay flipped a pocket watch out from within his jacket and he frowned at it before he snapped it shut and blew out the candle. It was the night of the new moon and there was a thick cloud cover so Allen had to blink rapidly as he tried to get his eyes to adjust. "We need to go, it's almost time." Jay said and he began walking through the woods, stepping only just loudly enough for Allen to follow.

"Time for what?" Allen asked then he realized how stupid that question was. What the hell were they doing? If he said 'it's time', clearly he meant that it was time for them to go kill.

"I've been studying the target's movements for the past two months. In thirty minutes, he will retire to his study and work for several hours. Before he comes in, we need to be in position." Jay explained. "Now be quiet, we don't want to be found out." Allen glared at the back of what was probably Jay's head before he began to tail after him. Since it was what he wanted, there was no point in arguing.

XXX

The house was monumental. It was a mansion connected to the outside world by only a waving road, which the two had tactfully avoided, and was virtually self sustaining. Apparently, their target dealt with teas, namely importing them in to sell to other rich nobles. Who could possibly be angry about that was beyond Allen but he was awestruck by the house. Who needed that much space? What did he do with all of it? It was mind boggling, Allen could never imagine owning so much that it would require a house that large.

There was a walled gate around the property which Jay had to practically fling Allen over before he vaulted over himself with far more grace. He had scarcely even given Allen any time to pick himself out of a rose bush before the two were off.

They had slunk through the gardens; careful to avoid stepping anywhere the light from the windows could reveal them as well as on anything that might give them away, until they got around to the back. Their target's office was on the bottom floor and it was quite expansive, much like the rest of the house. There was a desk and a high backed chair with its back to the window. But it was clearly empty. "He's at dinner now," Jay breathed. "We need to get in and hide before he gets done in roughly seven minutes."

"What about guards?" Allen asked in the same hushed tone. Jay ushered him to the window and he slipped a knife into it and waggled it around until it clicked open.

"No guards, he lives here with his daughter and their servants. Economic troubles." Jay hopped up onto the window ledge the stepped easily into the room. With far less grace, Allen clambered in after him and landed in a heap on the floor.

"Ow!" He whined as Jay closed the window. He had a sore on his elbow now, and he rubbed it as he got to his feet. He needed to become for athletic, he was fairly strong for a kid his age as it was but he still needed to be far stronger and faster. So he wouldn't need Jay to help him anymore. Jay smirked at him before the latch went back down and all evidence of the break in vanished.

"Get in the closet by the door." Jay breathed and he shoved Allen along. He slid slightly on the polished hardwood floor and he had to take a step forward so he wouldn't fall again. "Wait until you see me move. Then come out and watch the door and tell me if anyone's coming, got it?" Allen nodded once before he slid across the waxed floor and to the closet. There wasn't anything in it but a few boxes in the back so Allen had more than enough space to sit comfortably.

What must it be like to be rich and just stick empty closets into walls for the hell of it? Briefly, Allen fantasized about having that much money but he quickly decided that he would have no need for it. Having money drew enemies to you, and was the reason why this tea-dealer was going to die. It was a whole new drug, and Allen didn't like the idea of getting mixed up in it.

Allen slid the door shut behind him and he sat down awkwardly before peering out through the keyhole. Jay was looking pointedly from behind the desk and Allen could have sworn that he could see through the door. It was kind of creepy, to say the least and Allen wanted him to break eye contact. "One minute left." Jay mouthed and Allen nodded, even though Jay could not, in actuality, see the action.

Then Jay stepped back and he seemed to melt into the shadows. Even knowing exactly where he was, Allen still couldn't distinguish him from his surroundings. _I need to learn how to do that. _Allen thought as he pressed his eye closer to the key hole. Jay had just vanished! There had to be a trick behind it, all Allen needed to do was to figure it out. If it was skill, then Allen just need practice. That's all there was to it.

Allen slowed and quieted his breathing until he could hear the blood rushing in his ears. He didn't want to draw any attention to himself and hyperventilating would undoubtedly get him noticed. If the job failed because of him, he had no doubt that Jay would hang him out to dry and not give it a second thought. Oh the joys of being around people you could trust.

There was the sound of a door handle being rattled, almost right next to Allen's ear and his heart started pounding even more fiercely. He was right next to the door and the sound was being amplified, he knew that he wasn't in danger at the moment but he still felt frightened. What if the tea-man needed to get something from the closet that Allen was hiding in? The door to the office swung open then was shut again and Allen shrank away from the keyhole and flinched as a shadow passed by. But the closet doors did not swing open and Allen was not discovered. Instead, the sound of shoes on wood moved away from him until they were at the desk.

By the time Allen worked up the courage to move back to the keyhole, he had already sat down in his fancy chair and most of his body was hidden. From what Allen could see, the target was a middle aged man with dust colored hair and had skin so pale that Allen would look dark compared to him. Did he ever go outside without someone else shading him? Allen shook his head and squinted out the keyhole. What would an assassin be doing in this situation? Carefully, Allen pressed closer to the keyhole and tried to study the man's movements.

His head was down and he was writing something down on a piece of paper. The only thing on his desk that could be used as a weapon was the small bonze globe on the corner although Allen had no way of knowing what might be hidden on his person or under the desk. Was that something Jay had found out about before? Must have been. With a frown, and wishing that he could have a larger and closer peep hole, Allen tried to figure out if there was anything else that needed to be analyzed.

There was a bell in easy reach of his hand. For calling people? Jay had said that there were no guards so maybe it would be for servants? Yes, must have been. Unless it was a decoration. Or was he over thinking it? Allen bit the inside of his cheek as he tried to figure out what he should be thinking about. What should an assassin be thinking about as they closed in for the kill? Gah! What the hell was Jay doing? Why hadn't he moved yet?

Allen stared intently at the place where he had last seen him and mentally told him to get on with it already. Waiting here, this close to the kill, was worse than any other anticipating Allen had ever experienced before in his entire life. It would be the first time that Allen had ever willingly helped kill another living person. When he had killed Mana, that didn't count. Allen didn't know what he was doing and he hadn't wanted to hurt him. Both situations would inevitably result in a corpse but there was a world of difference between the two.

There was a flicker of movement in the shadows and suddenly Jay was there, gun pointed directly at the back of his head. The man didn't even notice and Jay suddenly made eye contact with Allen before he jerked his head to one side. A symbol for the phrase 'get out here'. With an almost disturbing flood of relief, Allen reached into his coat and pulled out the gun before he shoved open the door and attempted to jump out. Unfortunately, he just tripped over a box and fell flat on his face with a loud thump, hitting his sore elbow once more.

The man's head snapped up and behind him Jay shot and exasperated look. "Who the bloody hell are you?" The man demanded. Jay was giving him a 'what kind of moron are you' look. Truth be told, Allen was far more frightened by Jay's expression than anything the target had to say. Speaking of the target, the man's eyes widened in understanding. "You're a thief!" He yelped as Allen picked himself off the floor.

Well, he was close, but not spot on. Must have been a reasonable assumption to make when a kid jumps you, Allen doubted that anyone would think that he was out to kill them. There were many ways he could work that to his advantage but that wasn't at the top of his list right now. Not being arrested and found with a loaded gun; that was at the top of his list at the moment.

Suddenly, and quite predictably, the man reached for the bell but Allen raised the gun even faster. He still held it in both hands and wasn't sure about if it was in the right position but he looked positively lethal. "Move and you die," Allen growled. He wasn't sure if he could pull the trigger on another person yet but Jay had said that he would be the one doing the killing. There was already a gun on him, Allen was just making him aware of the threat.

There was a short pause while the target stared at Allen before his fingers inched away from the bell. Very slowly, he raised his hands slowly and his eyes were almost comically wide. It looked like he was slowly beginning to comprehend the danger he was in and Allen gave him a Jay-like smirk. The target still had no idea that Jay was right behind him, ready to kill at any second. "Calm down, Sonny." He said soothingly. "You don't have to do this. You can take what you want."

"What we want," Jay said suddenly. "Is your life." The man stared to whip his head around but Jay pressed the gun under his chin, pointing up and he grabbed one of his wrists in the same movement, effectively immobilizing him. He gulped and the cool metal brushed against his Adam's apple as Jay dug it further into his flesh. Jay looked pointedly at the door and Allen lowered his gun before he moved to the door and cracked it open.

"What?" He whispered horsey. "You…you're just children!"

"Not quiet." Allen snorted and he peered out the opening but his comment went ignored. Damn, was _everything_ in this house fancy? Why were there so many decorations in the hallway? It was just a hallway! "Maybe if he sold some of this junk he could get a bodyguard." Allen muttered. What kind of screwed up logic did these people have?

"Kid, don't go trying to make our job harder." Jay mock-scolded and Allen looked back at the two of them. No one was coming, anyway and if they did Allen would hear them. "Common sense isn't these people's strong suit." Jay mocked.

"What do you want?" The man repeated and his voice trembled with fear. He was standing up now, although he was still much shorter than Jay.

"I told you, we want you dead." Jay said condescendingly, almost as though he was speaking to a small child. Although he spoke to even Allen with more respect than that so Allen took that to mean that Jay thought this man was beneath him. Idly, Allen wondered if he found this entertaining or if there was some other reason for him to drag it out. Why not just pull the trigger and get out? Jay made eye contact with Allen again and smirked and Allen frowned. Was he trying to give Allen a step-by-step or something?

"Daddy!" A happy voice down the hall suddenly shouted and all three people whipped their heads in the direction of the door. Out of all of them, only Allen could see the girl with dusk colored hair and glasses flouncing down the hall with a goofy grin on her face. _She's my age. _Allen realized. _Were the hell are the servants? Shouldn't they be doing, I don't know…doing servantly things for her? Why's she _here_? _"Will you read me a story tonight, Daddy?" She yelled again. She was closer now, and Allen had recovered from the initial shock. _If she comes in here I'll have to grab her so she won't alert the house. _That was the logical course of action. That was what Allen would have to do.

"Not tonight, Lexi!" The man shouted. Allen shot Jay a worried look but the teen had an unreadable expression. Allen found himself hoping that the girl Lexi would turn back and go. But the girl did not listen to her father, she just flounced fasted. With a barley suppressed sigh, Allen stepped back and waited for the inevitable.

"You promised!" She laughed as the doors flew open. It took only a second for her to notice Jay but, by that time, Allen had grabbed her at the base of one of her pigtails and he pushed the gun to her temple.

"Anyone makes a sound and she dies." Allen said calmly. The girl whimpered and tried to pull away but Allen just pulled her pigtail roughly. "This is a gun," he informed her and she froze. Allen assumed she was making some kind of terrified expression but, as her back was pressed to his front, he had no way of knowing for sure. He felt Lexi shaking but he did nothing to loosen his grip. She was now a hostage and it would be stupid of him to let her go.

"Good boy." Jay said and he gave Allen a disturbing Cheshire grin. "But I think it's time you learned another lesson." He looked down at the intended target and _finally_ pulled the trigger. Brain matted, bits of skull, and blood shot out of the top of his skull and his eyes rolled back in his head. Jay let go of him and he collapsed into a bloody mass on the floor. Allen flinched at the bang but he was more relived that Jay had finally finished toying with him.

"EAHHHHHH!" Lexi screamed and even Allen winced at the high pitched noise. Although, he could not blame her for making it. Allen had once screamed like that too and although that time had long since passed, he did remember the feeling. "DADDY!" She shrieked. Lexi tried to move forward but Allen just held her even more tightly. Her father's body was hidden from sight but Allen knew that he was a bloody mess. She would see it soon enough, anyway.

BANG.

Allen blinked.

There was a smoking gun pointed at him.

That had been the sound of a gunshot.

Jay looked serious, for once.

Of shit.

Allen's finger's wrapped around the girl's hair ribbon as he tried to sort through the scattered mess that the second sound of gunfire had left him in.

"Listen up kid," Jay's sharp accent cut through Allen's thoughts like a hot knife through butter and his mind began to work once more. "We never leave any witnesses."

Lexi had gone limp. She was only standing because Allen was still holding her up by her ribbon. She was too heavy for that, however, and the silk ribbon slowly came loose and she collapsed onto the floor in almost slow motion. Allen held up the ribbon and noticed that it was lavender. It was a shade that complemented her dusty hair.

Allen looked down and saw that Lexi had a hole in her chest and blood was pooling around her.

"Someone heard that, we need to go." Jay said. Allen stayed where he was, still holding the ribbon and looking down. There was no blood on him, how had that happened? There hadn't been blood on Jay, either. If they left the scene covered in blood then it would be a dead giveaway. Jay had been very tactful. "Kid, we need to go." Jay said and Allen's mind suddenly returned to him.

His head snapped up and the light of understanding had returned to his eyes. He jumped easily over the corpse on the floor and ran to the window that Jay had reopened and he scrambled out of it with Jay just behind him.

There were no guards in the house, leaving was just as easy as entering.

XXX

Allen had said nothing the whole way going back to Paul's Place. He hadn't even put up any sort of protest when Jay took his gun back. It was, after all, _his_ gun and Allen certainly had no rights to it. Allen wasn't in shock and he wasn't afraid. He was just trying to figure out how he felt. He had held a girl his own age hostage and threatened her father with her life then left her body like it was nothing.

It was nothing, Allen didn't care about her. He didn't feel anything. Should that worry him? No, not anymore. If Allen was still trying to be 'good' then yes, it should have but that was no longer what he wanted to do. So Allen should be worried about why he felt so…empty?

Allen watched Jay work open the rusty latch on the backdoor until it finally gave. The door swung open and Allen was blasted with a wave of heat, noise, and odors. It was only in the blast of heat that he realized how cold he felt and he craved to be in the warmth. He took a step forward to enter the throng but Jay put a hand down on his shoulder and he was forced to stop. Allen wondered why, he just wanted to walk upstairs and sleep. He had the strangest feeling of detachment from his body and Allen wanted to sleep and avoid the emotional minefield he was in danger of walking into.

"What?" Allen asked as he looked up at Jay's face. There was no concern or pity in his features but Allen had expected none.

"Mr. Roper will give you the day off tomorrow. When I am paid, I will give you a portion of the money." Jay said. That seemed fair, he wasn't sure he would be able to drag himself out of bed for another week so a day off was nothing to bitch about. The fact that he was going to be paid made the vacation seem even better. Realizing that the teen was waiting for conformation, Allen nodded and Jay let him go.

Without another word, the young assassin turned around and walked down the alley, displaying none of the fading-into-shadows abilities that Allen knew he was capable of. There was another lesson, never use your abilities until they were needed. Being a show off would only put him in danger. Allen yawned then he slipped inside, closing the door after him. He weaved through the crowd, ignoring all the overly friendly woman and angry drunks.

It wasn't until he was alone and undressing in his room that Allen realized he still had her ribbon. And it was only then, alone in the dark and without anything to keep up the barriers he had built in his mind, that Allen was frighteningly close to the verge of tears.

* * *

**D: I didn't think that Allen would be totally heartless right away so... I had some troubles deciding how Allen should act here but I'm happy with what I did. **


End file.
